Making music

Disclaimer: I’m breaking my “don’t talk about other people rule” somewhat here. Thing is, though, the more I think about this story, the more it makes me smile, so I’m going to tell it. I want to stumble across it again many years from now and I hope it’ll make me smile then too.

I picked Ellen up at the university the other night and we ended up just driving around. On a complete whim, we decided to stop at the KW Art Gallery. We didn’t seriously expect it would be open.

But it was. There was some sort of CD release party or something going on. Music and booze and desserts and stuff. An attractive young woman came up to take our coats. We were probably a bit underdressed for the occasion, but I’ve stopped being intimidated by these sorts of things. I don’t know if Ellen ever was. Nobody came and told us that we shouldn’t be there, so we stayed.

While I was checking out the dessert table a woman came up to talk to Ellen. Apparently she recognized her, so they struck up a conversation. I listened in, but didn’t have much to add myself. One thing I really like about being in a couple is I can let her do the talking. This suits me very well, and I can do what I really like to do, which is sit back and listen and watch people.

A man came up who seemed familiar with the woman and joined the conversation. We all made brief small talk about the art or the music or what have you. The woman decided to take her leave, which left us with the man.

“Do you know [her]?” Ellen asked.

“Oh yes, I’ve known her for years,” he said wistfully. “We go way back. There was a time we made music together.”

Ellen’s ears pricked up. “Music? Do you play an instrument?” She doesn’t get nearly as many chances to talk about music as she’d like.

The man hesitated. “Um… Oh! Yeah! I play the saxophone…”

Eventually we wandered off to look at one of the exhibitions. When I was pretty sure we were alone, I mentioned “You know, I’m pretty sure when he said they made music together, he was speaking euphemistically.”